Becoming Me
by Bichir
Summary: Second-year student Ryoji Kushida has returned after a year's hiatus from Ouran Academy, but he is not how his classmates remember him. Newly equipped with a prosthesis, he is in for a rough acclimation. But will he be able to find his place there? And what role will Hani play in his convalescence?
1. Prologue

A boy sat alone in the corner of the classroom, gazing peacefully out the nearby window, as boys tend to do when deep in thought. Outside, a crisp cool breeze whispered hints of the coming fall. The leaves in the neatly trimmed trees had already begun to change their hues. The scene below was pleasant enough: students clad in blue and yellow walked along the intricate brick pathways, laughing and enjoying their lunch hour. In the backdrop sprawled the grounds of the prestigious Ouran Academy.

The boy seemed to look right through the serenity of the scene before him. His mind certainly was not on the buzz of excitement surrounding the start of the school year. Rather, he dreaded the start of the year, in particular the start of his first year of high school. New school years always brought new students, and new students liked to stare and whisper loudly.

 _What's wrong with him?_

 _Oh, you mean you don't know?_

 _I feel so bad for him._

 _He's never going to inherit his father's company if he doesn't get better._

He felt his cheeks and ears burning as the offhanded remarks echoed inside his head. People could be so cruel. They had to know he could hear their callousness. He knew they did not mean offense, but the lack of regard his classmates held for his position hurt greatly.

Almost unconsciously, he drew up his trouser leg to stare at the cause of his anguish. His left leg was striped with a dozen surgical scars, the muscle atrophied so greatly that he could almost wrap one hand around his calf. There were still sutures from his latest surgery, the black of the thread standing out starkly against his pale skin, though the skin had pulled together and a vivid pink scar was nearly formed. This was what had won him the attention of the other students, inspiring pity.

The pity was what he hated the most. He could put up with the stares and the discussion of his future, and even the disgust at the appearance, but he could not stand the pity. The sympathy he saw in some classmates' eyes was enough to make him want to scream.

In a flash of emotion, he lashed out his strong leg at the crutches that were neatly leaned against the wall, sending them flying across the room. A fist struck the wall as he breathed deeply, attempting to resettle his nerves before the other students returned.

"Feeling alright, Kushida?"

The boy at the window whipped his head around to the door, where a tall bespectacled student was standing, apparently unperturbed by the small outburst.

"O-ootori! Forgive me, I did not realize you were there," the smaller youth stammered.

Kyoya Ootori waved a hand dismissively, striding over to take his seat. "Think nothing of it. I assume it has something to do with your recent visit to the hospital?" He readjusted his glasses, expression neutral and seemingly disinterested in the answer to his question. He had his little black notebook out on his desk and seemed to be reading through it.

"How did you know about that?"

Ootori sighed, snapping his notebook shut and resting his head on the back of his hand, elbow propped up on the desk. "It's not that hard to determine, being as that seems to be where you go whenever you miss school. Even if you hadn't gone to one of my family's hospitals, it would have been an easy guess. Not that I know what transpired this time. That would be a breach of… _privacy_." The other boy did not enjoy the inflection that accompanied the last word.

Ryoji Kushida dropped his gaze from Kyoya's unwavering eyes. He did not respond to the unasked question, preferring to leave it hanging uncomfortably in the air between them. Rather, he stood and hobbled his way to the fallen crutches, favoring his left leg and bracing himself on the desks. Upon retrieving them, he left the room, pausing just for a moment at the door to say one final statement to Ootori.

"I will not be returning to Ouran again for this school year."

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Disclaimer: OHSHC belongs to Bisco Hatori, not me.**

 **It's been a while since I have written anything, so bear with me.**

 **Reviews are greatly appreciated, be it for plot, grammar, style, or characters. Thanks!**

 **-Bichir**


	2. Begin Again

_There was a squeal of tires on asphalt. Then, a crunch of metal and the smell of smoke and burnt rubber. He felt weightless, then heavy as stone. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. A mangled limb, trapped in the crumpled interior of the car. First came the sight. Then the smell of blood. Then the pain._

Agonizing pain caused him to shoot out of bed, grasping for the limb that was its source. He rolled around, a handful of sheets shoved into his mouth as he stifled the screams that ripped themselves from his mouth. Tears flowed freely from his eyes as the throbbing pain began to subside. His screams turned into sobs, which gradually ceased as he forced himself to massage his thigh.

Eventually, he could sit up. He stretched forward, forcing the clenched muscles of his hips and rear to release. Today was an important day and he refused to let anything ruin it. There is nothing quite like the first day of a new term, he was coming to find, and he was actually looking forward to this one for the first time in years. After an entire year of private tutoring, it would be nice to be reunited with his classmates.

He looked forward to the reunion, knowing the whole school was likely to be in an uproar about the changes that had occurred over the course of the last year. Excitedly, he stripped off his pajama bottoms and slipped an orange bag over what remained of his left leg. He dropped the residual limb into its socket, pulling its handle through a small valve at the bottom of the socket. With the prosthesis situated, he sealed the valve to create a vacuum seal between his skin and the socket that would hold it in place throughout the activities of the day.

He stood, shifting his weight from side to side and hearing the familiar hiss of air being pushed out of the expulsion valve. Once he was satisfied that he was all the way in, he sat back down and inserted the fully-charged battery into the knee. Walking over to the full-length mirror, he examined himself from head to toe.

The knee bent easily with every step he took, as it was programmed to unlock with a certain amount of pressure to the toe. It was a sleek black construction, with a realistic foot shell encasing the carbon-fiber blade that he walked on. The socket, however, was a black monstrosity. It reached all the way up to his rear, forming a small shelf that he could almost sit on. Initially, it had been rather uncomfortable, and he had pinched himself more than a few times, but he far preferred it to the constant pain of his leg prior to the amputation.

His door opened to admit Shun, his maid, carrying a tray. Shun was a boy only a year or two older than Ryoji, and he had been assisting the younger boy ever since the amputation. The two had struck up a friendship almost immediately, despite the difference in upbringing and social standing.

"Ah, Master, you are up already! You aren't usually one to rise early," Shun said, smiling. "I brought you your breakfast." He placed the tray on Ryoji's bedside, lifting the lid to reveal a bowl of rice topped with a poached egg. Beside it sat a steaming cup of coffee. Shun raised one finger to his lips in a secretive manner. "I managed to sneak in some coffee past your grandmother."

Ryoji's grandmother was adamant that her grandson never consume coffee. Her son, an extremely accomplished lawyer, stood at a mere 5'2", and she was convinced that the drink was what caused his 'stunted growth' – not the fact that the family was generally on the shorter side. She herself stood at just barely five feet. Still, Ryoji had developed an affinity for the bitter brew, and Shun was constantly getting in trouble for sneaking it to him.

"You're an angel, Shun," Ryoji responded, drawn to the mug as a moth is drawn to a flame. He sat down on the edge of his bed, sipping it, careful not to scald his tongue, as Shun pulled his uniform from the closet.

Shun merely smiled, shaking out the pants and carefully slipping one leg of them over the rubber foot shell. He then slipped the other leg over Ryoji's right foot. The smaller boy stood, preferring to let Shun handle the job of pulling the pants up over the bulky socket while he sipped at the liquid gold.

"I packed your satchel for you, there should be everything you need for school today in it. Is there anything you'll be wanting in particular for lunch?" When in middle school, Ryoji always packed a lunch, preferring cold food to the long trek down the stairs to the lunchroom.

"I think I will buy my lunch today. Better to let the whole school know I've returned rather than let it spread by rumors, eh?" he laughed nervously. No amount of preparation would make this return comfortable. Despite his excitement, there was a certain amount of apprehension. He quickly donned his shirt and blazer, allowing Shun to tie his tie for him. Once he was fully dressed, he returned again to the mirror. He grabbed his brush and began to run it through his long locks. Shun winced dramatically at the sound of the bristles tearing through knots. Wordless, he took the brush from Ryoji's hands and motioned for him to sit. Ryoji complied, and Shun kneeled behind him, gently running the brush through the jet black hair.

This was routine for them. Shun often complained that his friend would have no hair if the older boy was not around, but they both enjoyed the experience. Not a word was passed between the two during this exchange. No words were necessary – they did not need words. The silence and the contact were comforting for the both of them.

"There. You're all set." Shun had tied Ryoji's hair back in a high ponytail, leaving a few locks down to frame his face. "You look beautiful, darling!" He batted his eyelashes.

"Shut up," Ryoji growled, shoving Shun. Still, he couldn't help but grin. "I'd better get going, or I'm going to be late."

"You finish your breakfast. I'll pull the car around front for you."

A slight smile remained on Ryoji's lips as he sipped again at his coffee. Today would be a good day, he decided.


	3. Intrusion of Privacy

The minute Ryoji passed through Ouran Academy's gates, he became painfully aware of how much his socket was outlined by his dress pants. The whispering had begun again.

 _Is that…?_

 _What's up with his leg?_

 _He's cute!_

He strolled leisurely across the grounds, headed for class 2-A. These whispers were not quite the same as they had been before he left – these seemed more of interest than of pity. If they couldn't cease entirely, he was at least glad of the shift in content and intent. Head held high, he ascended the stairs to the second floor with ease and located his classroom.

Upon entering, he was greeted with familiar faces. It was the first day of the term, so the students were exchanging stories from summer vacation. The tumultuous babble was brought to a grinding halt as the students began nudging and nodding at him.

"Ah, Kushida! It is good to see you again!" the class representative, Ren Saito, greeted with a smile. "I was unaware you would be returning to Ouran this year."

Ryoji smiled diplomatically. "Yes, I had decided recently to return, as the issues regarding my health have been mostly resolved." He tensed slightly as he saw several pairs of eyes drop to his leg.

"I am glad to hear that," Ren replied, sensing the tension. He consulted the seating chart given him by the sensei. "Your seat is in front of Ootori."

"Thank you," Ryoji bowed slightly before moving to take his seat, hanging his satchel on the hooks on the side of his desk.

In a matter of moments, a shadow overcast his desk. He looked up into a bright, smiling face he did not recognize. The newcomer had bright blue eyes and a handsome face framed by blonde locks.

"Hello there, friend! My name is Tamaki Suoh," the blonde introduced himself, rather enthusiastically.

"Ryoji Kushida. A pleasure, I'm sure." Ryoji managed a seated bow, wondering why he didn't remember this boisterous boy.

"It's very nice to meet you! I couldn't help but notice-"

Ryoji tensed. Here it came, the beginning of the questioning that he had been apprehensive about all morning.

"-what beautiful hair you have! May I touch it?"

"…Excuse me?" the youth was caught completely off-guard. This Suoh either had realized it was tactless to ask personal questions in front of a crowd, or he was completely oblivious. He was unable to offer a reply to the question asked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Tamaki took this as a 'yes', apparently, for he began to run his fingers through the long coal hair, looking extremely happy.

This was ended abruptly with a smack to the hands from a small black notebook. "Tamaki, stop harassing Kushida," a familiar voice growled.

Tamaki pulled his hand back, eyes tearing up. "Kyoya, why are you so mean to me?" he sniffled.

Ryoji was still gaping like a fish at this point. He cleared his throat hesitantly. "Um…it-it's okay Suoh, I-"

He was cut off as Suoh rebounded from his apparent bout of depression. "See that? Being able to conjure tears without the use of eyedrops is the mark of a _true_ host! _And_ Kushida didn't mind. So there!" He pulled at one eye and stuck his tongue out at Ootori, seated calmly behind the confused classmate.

Kyoya adjusted his glasses. "Be that as it may, since Kushida is returning after a year's hiatus from Ouran, he is not used to your… _energy_." He seemed just as stone-faced as ever.

Tamaki shrank back a bit under his stern gaze. "Ah…I apologize for my forwardness, Kushida. Please, allow me to make it up to you. Come by Music Room 3 today after class lets out."

Still quite startled by the whole encounter, it was all Ryoji could do to nod.

When the bell rang for lunch, everyone cleared out rather quickly. Ryoji packed up his books, stowing them neatly in his backpack. Let everyone get their gossiping out before he made his appearance. Then perhaps there wouldn't be so many looks when he went to get his food.

After about five minutes, he stood and headed out to the cafeteria. The chorus of chattering seemed reassuring as he got in line to purchase lunch. As the space was so much larger, the chatter did not die out as it had when he entered his classroom that morning. That, in and of itself, was reassuring. Upon getting his sashimi, he took up residence at an empty table.

"Mind if I sit with you?"

Ryoji looked up into the kind and curious eyes of Ren Saito. He paused for a moment before nodding and resuming his meal. They ate in silence for some time. Ryoji could feel the class rep's curiosity building with each passing minute. Finally, he sighed and pushed aside his tray.

"If we go up to the classroom early, I can show you my leg."

Ren looked like he was about to explode with excitement. "Kushida, really?"

Ryoji nodded. If he remembered correctly, Ren was heir to a biomedical engineering firm, so it was only natural that he would want to see medical technology firsthand.

The pair went back to the room not soon after. Ren was almost singing, he looked so happy. Ryoji rolled up his pants to the point that they were tight against the carbon fiber of his socket. Before he could even sit down, Ren was examining the knee.

"This is where the microprocessor is, right? And there's supposed to be a pressure-sensor in the pylon? How does the suspension system work? I assume it's some sort of vacuum seal considering you have an expulsion valve right here…" he rambled on, not really waiting for any answers but rather drawing his own conclusions. "Can I see the top of the socket?"

Ryoji was hesitant. "I can't really show you it without removing my pants, the socket is too big for me to roll my pants up much further."

Ren's face fell so fast that Ryoji couldn't help but concede. "Alright, just a peek."

He began to undo his belt.

"Um…excuse me?" Someone at the door cleared their throat. They both turned to look, spotting a disheveled student in a large brown pull-over and huge poindexter glasses. "I seemed to have gotten lost. Can you point me to class 1-A?"

The two boys blinked. Why was there a student out of uniform? Ryoji looked to Ren, startled by the unexpected intrusion. He seemed to realize his duties as the class 2-A rep, and he stood rather reluctantly. "You must be Haruhi Fujioka, the scholarship student. I'm Ren Saito, class 2-A representative. Allow me to escort you back to your classroom."

"Thanks senpai…can I ask what you two are doing?" the honors student tilted his head in an inquisitive manner.

Ren and Ryoji both turned bright red, and Ryoji hurriedly re-buttoned his pants and replaced his belt. "It-it's not what it l-looks like!" Ren stammered. "I-I just wanted a closer l-look at Kushida-san's prosthesis!"

Haruhi leaned over to peer behind Ren, who was partially blocking the view from the door. "Prosthesis?"

Ryoji, now thoroughly red, jerked his pant leg down to cover the carbon and titanium. "Y-yeah," he stuttered, just as flustered as Ren was. He was not entirely sure of how bad the interaction had looked, exactly, but he had the presence of mind to know it didn't look good.

The scholarship student looked mildly interested, but then looked to the clock. "Can we hurry? I'd rather not be late for my next class…"

The second-year heaved a sigh of relief when the two left. He resolved never to place himself in such an awkward situation again. If Ren wanted to see the full suspension system that badly, he could take a gym elective. Unlikely, however, as Ren was a bit on the heavier side and avoided gym classes like the plague in middle school.

So there was a scholarship student at Ouran now? He couldn't remember there ever being one before, but the requirements for receiving a scholarship to the prestigious school were stringent so that's probably why.

Ryoji shrugged, pulling out his materials for the next class. Hopefully the honors student would have the intelligence not to mention to anyone what he had seen – or thought he had seen – during that short exchange.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **I have decided not to utilize honorifics, as I do not have adequate confidence in my ability to select the proper one based on the relationship/situation. Rather, the use of the family name will be indication of respect/formality.**


	4. To Dance Again

_Did you hear? Kushida is back._

 _I heard he lost his leg. You know, the one they were trying to save?_

 _Poor guy._

 _I feel sorry for him._

 _I feel sorry for him._

Ryoji was nearly in tears, he was so frustrated with the students at the school. Couldn't they see how much his position had changed? He could walk now, without crutches. He was not constantly in pain. He was laughing and interacting with his classmates now, not just sitting forlornly in the corner.

He was happier.

But they couldn't see past his _loss_.

 _Poor guy_.

 _I feel sorry for him._

 _It's a pity._

It was as if he was not whole without his leg, to his classmates. Throughout the first two weeks of the term, with every whisper, Ryoji shrank back further into the protective shell he had built before he left the year before. When the final bell rang that Friday, Ryoji quickly packed up his things and left. He got into the car without saying a word to Shun, and off they drove in silence.

Shun knew better than to try to get Ryoji to talk when he had shut down like that. The older boy had watched his friend slowly withdraw, and it seemed there was nothing that he could do.

When they arrived at the estate, Ryoji left the car and headed off across the grounds, schoolbooks left discarded where he sat. Shun watched him go, lost at how to go about helping his friend. He gathered up the satchel and took it to the young master's study. Then he settled into his normal routine, preparing dinner, tidying the house, and ironing Ryoji's uniform for the next Monday.

The student had still not returned by six, so Shun went to search for him.

A soft melody floated to his ears on the evening breeze. As Shun listened, it was accentuated with a splash. Intrigued, he followed the noise until he reached the koi pond.

Ryoji stood with his back towards the estate, poised in a very rigid stance. He was soaking wet water streaming down his clothes and pooling at his feet. He raised both hands as the song began again, and he began to dance.

His feet and torso moved and swayed in rhythm with the music as he waltzed around the stone patio. His face was rigid in concentration as his body followed the patterns drilled into him during his youth.

As he spun and stepped his way around the patio, his expression softened to one not of stern concentration, but of peace and enjoyment. He seemed to regain confidence, his strides lengthening and his movements larger. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He seemed so removed from the moment that Shun felt that, perhaps, he was invading on a private moment, and that he should leave the young master to his dance.

The serenity of the scene was shattered in one single misstep. Ryoji stepped off his prosthetic, moving to swing the knee through into the next step, but the knee locked out, refusing to bend. The toe of the foot snagged on the stonework. Caught off-guard and unbalanced, Ryoji tumbled forward, tucking his torso inward to roll forward and strike his prosthetic heel on the hard stone. It hit with a resounding thud, and he lay there, glaring angrily at the sky. Balling one hand up into a fist, he slammed it into the ground next to him.

"Master!" exclaimed Shun, rushing forward to his friend's side. "Are you alright? What happened?"

Ryoji looked away. "I'm fine. It keeps freezing up on me, damned thing," he growled, clearly perturbed at the state of events.

Shun looked at him in astonishment. "Sir, you do remember it's not waterproof, correct? It can survive a little splashing, but being submerged is not recommended so-" he gestured towards the pond "-if you took a dip in there then you should expect nothing different."

The younger boy's face went from slightly pink to bright red, his ears flaming hot. "I-I knew that!" he exclaimed, attempting to recover control of the situation.

Shun helped him up, removing the sopping wet blazer and shirt and offering the soggy boy a dry jacket. "Let's get you cleaned and dried. May I ask why you were out here all alone? As I recall, you hated dance lessons."

He thought it was not possible, but the red blush on his friend's face deepened even further.

"'s nothin'….Igotinvitedtoaball," Ryoji mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

"What was that? These old ears didn't quite catch that," Shun replied, cupping one ear as the two headed back to the house. He maintained a grip on his friend's arm, for Ryoji had to walk with an awkward, stiff-legged gait.

Ryoji sighed heavily. "I got invited to attend a ball at school next Friday evening. I was practicing so that I didn't make a fool of myself in front of everyone…"

"If you are so worried, why even go at all?" Shun asked, genuinely curious. It was interesting that his friend was interested in attending a social event, particularly since he had been withdrawing more and more.

Another sigh came from the black-haired boy. "Normally I would not attend, but one of my classmates insisted that I go. Suoh is rather…persuasive. At least, he is extremely dramatic when he does not get his way. And Ootori seemed to support my attendance as well. I figured it would be better to go, and ensure that the Kushidas do not fall out of favor with either family. Besides…" he trailed off.

By this point, the pair had entered the house and reached Ryoji's chambers. They moved in silence, an unspoken weight hung in the air between them as Shun helped Ryoji disrobe and settle in to take a bath.

Shun bowed, leaving the room to allow his charge to bathe in peace. As he took the soaked uniform down to the laundry, he couldn't help but wonder if Ryoji had ulterior motives to attending the dance. Was there someone there he was wanting to see?

He knew that the students at Ouran probably pitied the fate of their classmate, and that alone caused Ryoji a large amount of stress. It was almost as if he had become much less confident in his abilities, as though he felt his value was somehow affected by the accident. He wished he knew the right words or actions to change this outlook.

With a heavy heart, Shun phoned the prosthetist.

Ryoji sank even lower under the surface of the water, his nose barely hovering above the bubbles. The warmth of the scented water heated his chilled body, and tendrils of steam curled their way up to the ceiling, leaving a foggy film over the large, ornate mirror that stood by the sink.

He let his head fall back against the white tub, running his hand down his left side to the point where his leg ended. Slender fingertips pressed themselves into the soft, fatty tissue that now dominated that area. Since the amputation, he had lost much of his remaining muscle mass, and so the softness of the area was much more pronounced. Though they had reattached some of his hip muscles to the end of the bone, many were left unused, and unused they shrank away. He lifted his leg to examine the thick pink scar that crossed the end of his bone. He could still see the little points where the sutures had been removed.

With a splash, he submerged the leg and pulled his hair down from its ponytail. Already damp, it fell past his shoulders in thick clumps. He took a deep breath, submerging his head and running his hands through the hair as it floated around him in dark wisps.

His grandmother was constantly badgering him to cut his hair, saying that a man with hair past his shoulders looked far more like a woman. Of course, his delicate features did not assist that. Though he had inherited a shorter stature from his father, his face was very much like his mother's – a pointed jaw, thin lips, pronounced cheekbones. The only factor barring him from the sort of attractive status enjoyed by the Host Club was his prominent nose. This was only complicated by the fact that, in the same accident where his leg was crushed, he had broken it, and it had never healed straight. His mother offered to pay for plastic surgery to fix it, but he had turned her down. He had figured there was no reason to – people were far more likely to get hung up on the appearance of his leg than they were his nose.

He emerged from underwater when his lungs could not take being submerged any more. He inhaled deeply, eyes still closed, feeling his hair cling to his shoulders and back.

He needed more practice dancing before the big event, he had to make sure that he did not humiliate himself or give anyone cause to think him someone to be commiserated with. If he could pull this off without a mistake, perhaps he could shed some of the weight that hung in his chest, and he could begin to be normal again.


	5. The Gala Fall

"That's it! You're doing much better; just make sure you don't worry about keeping your distance. Step in closer to your partner, there shouldn't be space between you," coached Shun. Ryoji and one of the kitchen staff were dancing around the foyer.

"I don't need dance pointers, Shun, I just need practice to make sure I step on my leg right," growled the irritated youth. It was the day of the gala, and tensions were running high. Ryoji had already changed from his school uniform into a black suit and tie. A vibrant royal blue vest completed the outfit.

Shun tsked dramatically. "Oh, Shun, you'll never impress the ladies if you can't dance well, staying on your feet not included!"

Ryoji's face reddened, but he couldn't suppress a smile, knowing his friend was just trying to lighten the mood.

"I know you'll do well tonight, young Kushida," beamed the staff member currently held in his arms. She was a middle-aged woman, one who had been around since he was born. "Any young lady would be lucky to be your partner tonight."

She beamed at him. It was a strong, bright, honest smile, one which leaves its target with an ember of warmth deep in their core.

Ryoji bowed to her. "Thank you, Miyo. I hope your faith in me is well founded."

The funny thing about faith is, it is completely fueled by strength of will and good intentions. These two characteristics generally do not last very long when faced with the circumstances that Ryoji was.

The ball started off well, all things considered. The Host Club, the organizers of the event, started off with a welcoming statement, and then the music began. Everyone rushed to find a partner in a flurry of fabric and voices.

Ryoji stood off to the side, watching the first dance begin. It was rather fast-paced, so much so that he doubted he could keep up without ending up on the ground. Instead, he stood off to the side with a glass of punch to sip as he scanned the attendees.

After the first song, Tamaki handed off his partner to a tall, dark-haired senior Ryoji recognized as Takashi Morinozuka, the national Kendo champion. The blonde made a beeline for his classmate.

"Ah, Ryoji!" Tamaki exclaimed excitedly. Ryoji began to bow, only to be enveloped in an energetic embrace. "I am so glad that you could make it!"

Ryoji stiffened. Perhaps this unusual familiarity was part of the blonde's French upbringing? "Suoh, I did say that I would attend," he pointed out.

Tamaki stuck out his lower lip in a dramatized pout. "But you said you would come visit the Host Club and you never did! I wanted you to meet my friends!"

Ryoji stifled the urge to roll his eyes. He had the feeling that Suoh wanted more for his friends to meet him than the other way around.

Tamaki raised an arm, beckoning to some other students. Over strode a pair of identical, red-headed twins and a petit brunet with large eyes.

"What is it boss?" asked one of the gingers.

"Yeah, I thought you wanted us to entertain the guests," added the other.

"Of course, gentlemen, but first, there are introductions to be made!" Tamaki turned back to Ryoji. "These troublemakers are Hikaru and Kaoru Hitachiin," he said, gesturing to the twins. "And this is my little Haruhi!" he added, giving the brunet boy a large hug. "Everyone, this is one of my classmates, Ryoji Kushida!"

Haruhi did not seem entertained in the slightest.

"Um, senpai, don't you have something important to be doing right now?" he asked. His tone was one of irritation.

Tamaki looked urgently at Kyoya, then at a female student that was hovering on the fringe of the dance floor. "Right!" he exclaimed, before rushing off and getting lost in the crowd.

"The boss is always getting sidetracked," one of the twins said.

"Yeah, what's so important about you anyways?" the other asked, looking the second-year up and down. He blushed under their joint gaze.

"Knock it off you two, be polite. He is your senior after all." Haruhi turned to Ryoji. "Sorry about him, he can be a bit of a handful. I'm Haruhi Fujioka, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Ryoji started. "Wait, the scholarship student?" When he nodded, Ryoji felt his face reddening further. "I met you on the first day of term. You'd gotten lost and ended up in my classroom."

Haruhi looked blankly at him for a moment before his gaze dropped downwards. "Oh, that's right! You're the amputee student." He struck one of his fists into his palm in a gesture of recognition.

"Why are you blushing so much?" One of the twins poked his cheek, which was flaming red.

"Yeah, do you like Haruhi or something?" It amazed Ryoji that they could sound so bored while making these accusations. His blush deepened.

"I said knock it off you two." Haruhi seemed even more irked than he had been with Tamaki's antics. "Go dance or something."

"Fine, fine, we're going. It was getting boring over here anyways," the twins remarked in unison, strolling off onto the dance floor to grab themselves partners.

"I'm sorry about them, senpai," Haruhi sighed. "They don't seem to have any manners."

"I-it's okay, Fujioka," Ryoji stammered. He opened his mouth to say something else, but could not come up with the words.

Haruhi stood with him in silence for a minute or two. "You know, it's kind of funny. Ryoji is my father's name," he laughed. "It's such an unusual name he will never believe I met another one!" He turned his head to look at Ryoji, eyes closed and a friendly smile on his face.

"That is funny." The second year was beginning to calm down. "I've never met another Ryoji before. My mom was always one for unique names."

"Haruhi, you're needed elsewhere." The cool voice of Kyoya Ootori broke their awkward conversation.

Haruhi nodded, waving goodbye before disappearing into the crowd. Ootori simply nodded in acknowledgement before disappearing behind Haruhi.

Ryoji took another sip from his punch as he watched them go.

"Are you just going to be a wallflower all night, Ryoji?" a voice sounded from behind him.

The boy almost choked on his drink as he whirled around, eyes settling on a tall young woman. She was clad in a long, figure-hugging red dress that accentuated her wide hips and narrow waist, while a chain of pearls hung at her throat. Black hair hung in well-styled curls that barely brushed her shoulders.

"Tomone! I-I didn't know y-you were going to b-be here!" he exclaimed, trying in vain to regain his composure.

The young lady before him smiled widely. "I didn't know you would be showing your face here either. It looks like we are both surprised. So…care to dance?"

Dumbfounded and now thoroughly embarrassed, it was all that Ryoji could do to extend a hand. She gracefully took it and led him out onto the floor as a dance began.

They moved as one unit, swirling around the floor in an extravagant waltz. The young man's vibrant red cheeks slowly returned to normal as he turned his attention to the pointers that Shun had given him earlier that afternoon.

Remain calm. Stay close to your partner, step deeper so that no space is created between the two of you. Relax, relax, a rigid posture is much less inviting than a relaxed one.

"I missed you, Ryo, I'm glad you're back," she said softly, offering a serene smile down at him.

The redness returned readily to his face. "I-It's good to be back." Ryoji was caught off-guard by her use of his childhood nickname.

He had not seen her since he left Ouran, and even in the few years of his attendance following the accident they had not seen much of each other. Back in grade school, the two had been the best of friends, nearly inseparable. But he had changed so much, and she had transformed from the gangly buck-toothed, smartass Tomo into the tall, beautiful, composed Tomone Tanabe.

She easily stood a head taller than him, her height not enhanced by the silver gladiator sandals adorning her feet. He looked down hurriedly from her face, not daring to see what emotions she held in her eyes.

This sudden distraction was enough to cause the night's relatively enjoyable events to grind to a screeching halt.

He could feel the misstep as it occurred. He had transferred his weight to his prothetic, but instead of standing on it, he felt it buckle. It had not locked. Instinctively, he tightened his grip on Tomone's waist, flipping the two of them as they fell such that she landed full-body on top of him. There was a loud _crack._

Everything around them stopped. In the background, the music continued on calmly, but no one was dancing. All eyes were on the pair on the ground.

Ryoji opened his eyes, gasping for air to enter his stunned lungs. His view was completely obstructed by Tomone's small chest. The pearls around her neck brushed his forehead. She propped herself up, looking down at him in confusion and concern.

"Are you okay, Ryo?" she asked, voice wavering. "Did I hurt you?"

"I-I'm sorry Tanabe, it w-was an accident. My l-leg…" he trailed off as he released her waist, pushing her up as she made to stand. She offered him a hand.

"That doesn't answer my question. Are you okay?" she asked again. Her voice was so quiet he could barely hear her. She was blushing, but he felt his face had gone a deathly pale.

It was so improper, the way they had landed. And he knew it probably looked like no accident to the students of Ouran, who had no experience with the technology he needed to walk.

He scrambled to his feet, offering her a hasty bow. "I'm so sorry, Tanabe, forgive me!"

And with that, he took off for the front gates of Ouran.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Thank you for your feedback, . I appreciate hearing from my readers very much.**


	6. A New Friend

When he was a safe distance from the gates of Ouran, Ryoji paused to breathe. His lungs and ribs ached, though if it was from physical exertion, injury, or emotion he could not tell. He slumped against the nearest estate's wall, burying his head in his hands.

Why did it have to be _her_ , of all people? He had a chance to prove to everyone that he was _normal_ , that he was fine, and he blew it because he had been distracted by _her._ The entire last week's practice, gone down the drain, and for what? So that he could make himself into a fool.

There was a dull aching at the base of his skull. He put one hand back to rub the tender area, and it came back with a smudge of red. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, starting as a twitch and gradually building into hysterical laughter.

He muffled this by burying his face into his legs, feeling the dramatic difference between the warm, soft muscle and the cool carbon fiber. "She must think me a complete idiot by now," he mumbled into the cloth.

"It can't be that bad," a familiar voice comforted.

Ryoji jerked involuntarily, looking up wide-eyed at Shun, who stood before him on the pathway. With a sad smile, he offered his friend a hand to stand.

When Ryoji took it, the older boy pulled his friend up quickly, pulling him inwards to a tight embrace. The black-haired boy moved his hands as if to push out of the hug, but slowly he wrapped his arms around Shun's waist.

"Tanabe called me, you know. She was worried. You ran off after what she said was a pretty bad fall," Shun murmured into Ryoji's ears. "You shouldn't do things like this, master, going off on your own. It's time you stop running from your mistakes."

"You don't understand, Shun, it looked like I did it on purpose! She fell on me in such an improper manner! I have disgraced the Kushida name!" he protested, voice wavering with emotion.

Shun stroked Ryoji's long hair. "Is that what you think? She told me that once you left, everyone was talking about how gentlemanly you were, ensuring that you softened her fall by making her land on you. You saved Tanabe from injury."

His hand came back damp with blood, and Shun's tender demeanor changed dramatically. "Ryoji, why did you not tell me you were injured?" he said sharply. "This is a head wound, we have to get you to the hospital as soon as possible."

He bodily dragged a weakly protesting Ryoji into the black car before driving away.

x

At the foot of his bed, the doctor flipped through some papers and x-rays. "You appear to be suffering from a slight concussion and several fractured ribs," he said gruffly through a thick moustache that hid his mouth. "The fractures are hairline, however, so you should not experience too much of an issue from them. Just take it easy for the next few weeks, and you should be fine."

Shun sighed in relief as he signed the release paperwork. The two exited the hospital and headed back to the estate. It was, by that point, nearing sunrise, and they were both exhausted.

"Hey…Shun?" Ryoji rubbed his shoulder in uncertainty.

Shun simply raised an eyebrow at him in the rear-view mirror.

"I…I'm sorry. For worrying everyone and running off on my own."

Shun sighed, rubbing one temple. "With your…situation, it is difficult for people not to see you as a target. If you had run into someone who wished to do you harm, what would you have done? You lack the skill and strength to protect yourself."

Ryoji felt an ember of anger flare up deep in his stomach. He bit back a sharp reply, knowing that the bluntness of is friend's statement was less of an accusation and more founded in concern and deep-seated fatigue.

So he sat in silence the rest of the ride, pondering the implications of his friend's statement.

The weekend passed with unexpected speed, and before Ryoji knew it, Monday had come. One failed fake sickness and a long-winded protest later, and he found himself dumped unceremoniously at the gates of Ouran Academy by an unsympathetic Shun.

He braced himself for the unknown that lay ahead of him, taking a deep breath before striding with haste toward his classes, head tucked and eyes down.

The air behind him was devoid of sound. Students hurried past, their eyes almost pointedly directed away from him. For someone so used to the hushed whispers and covert looks, the silence was…unnerving to say the least. The few pairs of eyes he managed to catch glancing his way had an unusual look in them. This was worlds away from the sympathy he usually saw. It was almost….admiration?

He shook his head, banishing the absurd thought from his mind.

"Kushida!"

He looked back to see Tamaki and Kyoya striding towards him. He paused in his ascent up the stairs, looking down as they approached.

"We wanted to offer an apology for the events of Friday night," started Kyoya. His formal, calm air was greatly contrasted by the bouncing blond to his right.

To no one's surprise, Tamaki interrupted in a blaze of dramatic glory. "Ah, how gentlemanly it was of you, to risk your very life to save your princess. Why, it touched my very soul, the beauty of your actions and the purity of the love you hold deep in your heart for her." He pirouetted around Ryoji in a dramatization of the events of Friday night, all the while spewing this nonsense.

Ryoji shrugged off Tamaki's arm, feeling heat rise above his collar. "I wouldn't go so far as to say I risked my life." He swallowed nervously, wondering exactly what the two boys had planned. "A-and she's not my princess, she's just a childhood friend."

Tamaki did not miss a beat. "Is that so?" He put a slender finger to his lips in a confidential manner. "Don't you worry, my good man, your secret is safe with me."

Kyoya re-took control of the conversation at that point in time. "Tamaki, didn't you have a proposition for our classmate?" He pushed his glasses up, whether in irritation or in amusement, Ryoji could not tell.

"Yes!" the blond buzzed excitedly. He threw out an arm in a welcoming gesture. "Ryoji, I would like to extend an offer to join the Host Club!"

Ryoji looked blankly at him.

"No."

Accompanied by the sound of shattering glass, Tamaki's expression fell to one of despair, and he turned his puppy-dog eyes towards Kyoya. "B….but Mommy, why doesn't he want to spend time with us?" he whined.

Kyoya sighed. "Kushida, I would like to remind you that in the school handbook, students are required to participate in a club. As per your academic files, you have yet to join a club."

Ryoji was stunned. Were they attempting to blackmail him?

Tamaki rebounded once again, eyes buzzing with excitement. "We have it all figured out! You could be the Protector Type!"

"No."

"The Feminine Type?"

"No."

"…The Bashful Type!"

"No."

Tamaki was looking more and more dejected with each passing denial.

"The Tragic Type?" he said meekly, clearly running out of suggestions.

"Hell no. I'm sorry, Suoh, but I have no interest in the activities of your club." With that statement, he walked away.

The morning's classes dragged on, with Ryoji trying desperately not to look at Tamaki's increasingly pathetic puppy-dog eyes. As soon as class was dismissed for lunch, Ryoji took off.

He did not want to go to the lunchroom, where he would be hard-pressed to avoid the blond idiot and his scheming four-eyed friend. Rather, he took off to the school gardens, where he hoped to find some serenity.

Shun, as omniscient as ever, had insisted that Ryoji pack at least a small lunch, in the event of complications. As he sat on the stone stairs by the pond, he opened the small box. Inside sat four salmon onigiri and two red bean mochi. He smiled softly. It wasn't exactly the most nutritious lunch he could have had, but it he definitely appreciated being surprised with his favorite middle school lunch.

He munched on one of the onigiri as he watched the large silver koi swim lazily around the pond, oblivious to the world around them. Their calm, rhythmic movement allowed his mind to wander.

Ryoji could not believe the _audacity_ of the Host Club. They acted as though they ran the school, and in some small way they did – they had somehow, in their childish antics and flirtatious meetings, won the admiration and love of half the school. He did not know a single female student that had not attended the club's activities at least once, and he had never heard a male student say anything poorly of the club that had not been born of jealousy.

Tamaki had been insistent that the invitation to join the Host Club was due to his actions the night of the gala, but Ryoji was uncertain if that was the case. He had a nagging suspicion that they were seeking to utilize the celebrity that his unfortunate accident had landed him with. After all, was there a single student on the grounds that could not recognize him on sight? And weren't they all curious to find out more about that accident – and how it had affected him?

No, he assured himself, he would never subject himself willingly to that kind of questioning.

"Mind if I sit here?" a gruff voice broke him from his thoughts.

Ryoji looked up and instantly felt the blood drain from his head. A thoroughly pissed-off face greeted him, one which could scare the pants off Satan himself. To make matters worse, this face was framed by hair as scarlet red as fresh blood.

"S-sure," Ryoji stumbled, snapping his gaze from the terrifying student back to the serene pond. He felt his heart rate quicken, adrenaline spiking as he wondered what the student was going to do.

The boy took a seat next to him, and they sat in silence for a few minutes. Ryoji fought the urge to either look at him again or run. He wondered what he had done to piss off this guy so much.

"I'm surprised you didn't take off," The red head mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

"Pardon?" Ryoji did not take his eyes off one of the silver koi.

A sigh exploded from next to him. "The others, they sort of just run when I get close. 'Cuz of my face, ya know?"

Ryoji was taken aback. So the other student was not mad? He was just cursed with a face like that?

"I couldn't run if I wanted to," Ryoji laughed nervously, knocking on the carbon fiber of his socket. That was a lie, of course, as the leg could respond to higher speeds as he had shown everyone at the ball, but he felt a need to put the red head at ease.

They sat in an awkward silence for another few minutes.

"Are you Ritsu Kasanoda?" Ryoji asked, remembering hearing about the Walking Blizzard.

"Ah. Are you Ryoji Kushida?"

"Mm."

The pair lapsed into tense silence again, both keeping their eyes on the fish in the pond. Knowing the other student's identity only served to heighten the awkwardness. As a highly respected lawyer, Ryoji's father had taken Kadsanoda' father, the head of the Kasanoda Syndicate, to court several times, though none of the charges had ever stuck. The two families had a…less-than-friendly rivalry, constantly being on opposing sides of the law.

Wordlessly, Ryoji slid his bento box over to the space between them, as a sort of peace offering. He felt a sort of companionship with the red head, lineage aside. Be it pissed-off mug or prosthetic leg, there was an aspect of each of them that drew unwanted attention, and that aspect appeared to be their primary defining feature.

Ritsu turned his head to look the lawyer's son up and down. There was no malice in his posture – in fact, Ryoji appeared to be relaxing. He considered this atypical response to being in his presence.

Wordlessly, the two enjoyed the meal in the cool autumn breeze.


	7. Physical Exams

"Welcome, students!"

The veritable army of medical personnel chorused their annual greeting as the students filed into the hall. By name, they gradually got called away to have their heights measured, weights taken… all of the doctors were always very encouraging.

There was a chorus of squeals to his left, and looking, he could see the Hitachiin twins removing the tops of their uniforms, much to the excitement of the ladies crowded around him. Ryoji internally rolled his eyes in exasperation. The Host Club really did tiptoe along the line of decency, and it was the encouragement of the girls at Ouran that kept them from getting in trouble. Even the teachers that were present voiced no opposition to this display.

Tamaki stepped out from behind a curtain, shirtless and sporting a brunet wig that much resembled Haruhi Fujioka's hair. With a loud voice, he proclaimed himself to be the honors student.

Ryoji hid a scoff of laughter behind a well-timed cough. Did he honestly think anyone would take him seriously or be fooled by that?

It was not until his own name had been called that he began to wonder why exactly Tamaki had attempted such a stunt. Was Haruhi really that shy of a man that being topless in front of other students was too uncomfortable?

He shrugged mentally. Who was he to say anything? He was feeling increasingly bashful about his own need to disrobe to be examined.

His nurse gestured to a curtain.

"You can disrobe behind here, Mr. Kushida. I will also need you to change into these," she ordered, handing him a pair of sports shorts. "The doctor would like to examine your leg as well."

With that, she left him in the relative privacy of the curtain.

Why did _he_ need to change? None of the other students had to change into gym clothes. He grumbled, taking a seat on the chair provided and slipping his pants with some effort over his bulky socket. The loose shorts were far easier to draw over the rigid material.

Adjusting himself, he shrugged off his blazer and undid the buttons of his shirt, shrugging that off too.

"Are you finished, Mr. Kushida?" he heard his nurse ask from just beyond the curtain. There was an excited twittering from further away.

He groaned audibly. Of _course_ there were people wanting to sneak a peek. He had opted out of gym class for the time being, citing medical reasons, and as such no one had seen much beyond the outline of his leg.

He looked down at his body. It was not a slim, dainty body like the Hitachiins, nor a particularly strong one like an athlete's would be. His arms and core were strong from years of abuse on crutches, but his right leg and his chest lacked muscular definition.

A few scars criss-crossed his arms and back, courtesy of glass shards from shattered windows. These, however, were far fainter than the scar at the end of his residual limb.

He took a deep breath, steeling his nerve and stepping out from behind the curtain.

The excited whispers began as soon as the curtain moved. He tried his best to keep his eyes off the girls as the nurse measured his chest, biceps, and hips. The harder challenge was to keep all of his blood from rising to his cheeks.

"Could you remove your leg, Mr. Kushida? I need to get an accurate weight."

Ryoji hesitated. He really did not enjoy the attention, and at this request from his nurse, he could feel a few more eyes drawn to him.

"Don't you all have your own physical exams?" a familiar voice growled.

Ryoji's eyes snapped to the small gaggle of girls. Ritsu was standing, shirtless, behind them. He looked huge, compared to the slim girls around him, his own scars looking particularly menacing on his tight muscles. His own nurse looked terrified behind him. He had one hand on the shoulder of one of the girls who looked like she was about to faint. Her face was as white as a corpse.

In a flurry of movement, the crowd disappeared.

"Kasanoda touched me!"

"Oh my God, you're lucky you're still alive!"

Ryoji looked at Ritsu, gratitude plastered all over his face.

Ritsu scowled in such a way that the black-haired boy recognized as a smile. "Women," he said gruffly.

"Women," Ryoji returned weakly.

The doctor sat in front of Ryoji, probing the stump with her fingertips.

"Well it healed well, I can tell you that. But you've been having phantom pains, you said?"

Ryoji nodded. They had, after a blunt hint from Ritsu, moved from the main hall to a specially prepared room. Apparently, they had set it up for Fujioka, but his exam had been completed.

"Are there any times in particular that they seem to be worse?" she continued, not looking up at him. She appeared to be on the younger side of middle-aged, with gray-brown hair pulled up into a ponytail and large, black framed glasses. His prosthetist, a man by the last name of Ohno, leaned off to the side. Apparently, they had called him in for the consultation.

"They seem to be more prominent in the morning," he said.

"Perhaps it's due to swelling overnight," suggested Ohno. "Fluid often builds up in residual limbs, and if his nerve endings are deeper in the tissue, it stands to reason that this could increase pressure on them, triggering the phantom pains." He chewed thoughtfully on the end of an indelible pencil.

The doctor nodded in agreement. "If that's the case, you should try wearing a shrinker on it at night, to reduce the swelling." Ryoji inwardly groaned, for he found the compression bandages to be extremely uncomfortable. "Are you on any medications to help with the pain?"

"Neurontin and some antidepressant," he recited. "And whenever I have the pain I try to take another painkiller. Over the counter."

The doctor nodded again, standing. "As long as it does not get any worse, I think we are okay for the time being."

Ohno handed him a pull sock to allow him to slide on his leg. "If anything changes or starts to hurt, you know to give me a call." The prosthetist winked, tucking the indelible pencil he had been playing with behind his ear.

Ryoji noted with some amusement that Ohno's mouth had been dyed blue by the pencil. He nodded in assent.


End file.
